In Her Defense
by redrider6612
Summary: Booth gives Brennan some pointers on self defense, but something from her past causes a violent response. B&B frienship.  Note: a rape is mentioned in chap 2, no details, tastefully done, carefully handled.  Don't read if this subject bothers you.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, the idea for this short fic has been bouncing around in my noggin for quite awhile and my muse just loves weekends for creative writing, so here ya go.**

**DISCLAIMER: why do I have to tell you I don't own Bones or any of the characters? I mean, duh, ya think I'd be writing fanfics if I did? lol**

Part 1

Brennan and Booth faced each other on the training mat, each dressed in sweatpants and T-shirts, barefoot. Booth grinned in anticipation. This ought to be interesting.

"I think you already know, self defense isn't about strength, it's about using your attacker's weight against him. Keep him off balance, and you'll come out on top in any situation. Now, I don't want to hurt you, so if you want to stop at any time, just say so, okay?" Booth told her.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, same goes for you too. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you," she assured him with a wry smile.

Booth chuckled. "Don't worry about me. If you hold back too much, I won't be able to tell you what areas you need help in." Taking a deep breath, he looked her up and down. "Ready?"

At her nod, he stepped toward her. "Okay, we'll go through some attack scenarios and you show me what self defense techniques you would use."

Brennan stepped closer to him. "Shut up and start, Booth. I haven't got all day."

Without further ado, he grabbed her upper arms. Bending her arms, she swept them up and then down, breaking his hold, then feinted a knee at his groin. Stepping back, he nodded. "Very good. You might want to try a jab at the throat with the vee of your hand or boxing the ear to help incapacitate your attacker. Try it again."

They did it again, and this time she jabbed at his throat with her open hand, stopping at the last moment. Satisfied at her effectiveness and impressed by how quickly she learned, he stepped back. "Okay, now we'll try an attack from the rear." Coming up behind her, he wrapped his left arm around her neck and grabbed her right arm. Stepping her bare foot onto his, she dropped and spun left, using her momentum to pull him off balance and over her shoulder. He landed on his back, the breath momentarily knocked out of him.

When he didn't get up right away, Brennan walked over to stand over him. "Are you okay?" she asked cautiously. She had held back as much as she could, but her instincts had kind of taken over and she had flipped him a bit harder than she had intended.

Booth nodded since he couldn't quite talk yet. Reaching down, she gave him a hand up. He stood for a moment, getting his breath back. Brennan was watching him with a smug smile. "Was that one good? Or did you have some 'pointers' to give me to improve it?" she asked teasingly.

Booth scowled at her. "No, that was great," he said, albeit reluctantly. "You held back on the foot stomp, for which I'm thankful. I'd say that move is very effective."

Brennan shifted from foot to foot, anxious to get on with it. "What's next? C'mon, Booth, I have things to do."

Booth took another deep breath. 'Man, she really knocked the wind out of me with that one,' he thought, impressed in spite of himself. "Okay, now let's try one from a prone position. Lie down." Her brows rose and she hesitated. "C'mon, you need to be prepared for every possible scenario. Trust me."

She lay down and he got down and straddled her abdomen. He put his hands to her throat, pretending to choke her. "Now, you need to—"

Suddenly her arms shot up between his and her hands grabbed his ears. Twisting his head, her body heaved up and her legs scissored, flipping him to the side. Booth let out a grunt of surprise at the ferocity of her attack as he landed on his back again, dazed.

Brennan was having a hard time recovering as well. On her hands and knees, her head was dropped forward as she tried to calm her racing heart. 'This is Booth, Tempe. It's only Booth. Get a grip!' Sitting back on her heels, she dropped her head back and rolled it back and forth on her neck, trying to work away the tension.

Booth grunted as he pushed himself to a sitting position. He looked over at her curiously. Why was she winded? And pale? His concern grew as she closed her eyes and put her hands at the small of her back, stretching carefully.

"Bones, are you okay?" he asked, rolling to his feet and going over to her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He was surprised to see tears in her eyes. He reached down to help her stand. He held onto her for a moment, waiting for her to steady herself. Her color was coming back and her breathing seemed to be returning to normal.

She looked up at him, somewhat dazed. "I'm fine. How about you? Did I hurt you?"

Booth frowned. She still seemed a bit off. "Yeah. I mean, you nearly tore my ears off, but I'll be okay. What happened?"

She blinked hard several times. "I—I don't know. I just—lost control there for a minute. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

Booth grabbed her upper arms gently. "Hey, it's okay, I'm fine. I mean, what kind of FBI agent would I be if I let a squint lay me out?" he teased. When she didn't reply his concern returned. He lifter her chin with a knuckle. "What is it?" he asked gently.

Her eyes closed against the gentle concern in his gaze. 'Tell him,' a little voice in her head told him. But she couldn't. There was no point. It had happened a long time ago and she'd locked it away and gone on with her life. She hadn't thought about it in years. But it seemed the bad memories never really went completely away. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and turned away from him, denying herself the comfort she could find in his arms.

"It's nothing. Honestly, I just got a little carried away," she said, chuckling a little, but Booth wasn't convinced. She could tell when she slid a glance his way. He was watching her suspiciously. "Do you mind if we call it a day? I have a few things I need to do at the lab before I go home."

Booth nodded slowly, unconvinced, but willing to let it go for the moment. "Sure. I'll see ya later?"

Picking up her shoes and socks, she threw him a weak smile. "Yeah, see ya later."

He watched her walk away as he sat down to put his shoes and socks on. His mind kept replaying the events of the last half hour. She had definitely gotten weird when he'd straddled her for that last move. No matter what she said, there was a lot more going on there than she let on. He decided to ask Angela if she knew anything about it.

&&&&&&


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is the final chapter. I realize this makes for a short fic, but musie really felt this was as far as it should go. A huge, heartfelt THANK YOU to all my reviewers. You really made my day and spurred me to write this. WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A RAPE SCENE (TASTEFULLY, CAREFULLY WRITTEN—NOT GRAPHIC) IF YOU THINK IT MIGHT BOTHER YOU, PLEASE DON'T READ ON**

In Her Defense

Part 2

It had been a long day. Angela was walking down the hall toward her office, ready to shut down her computer and head for home when suddenly an arm slipped around her waist and she looked up in surprise. Booth started moving her along swiftly, his gaze darting around to make sure they weren't being observed.

"Booth! What--?"

"Sshhh! I don't want Bones to see me yet," he whispered urgently, ushering her into her office and closing the door behind them. Peering through the blinds, he sighed and closed them. He turned to find Angela watching him quizzically. "I need to talk to you," he said, still whispering.

Angela smiled, propping a hand on her hip. "I thought you understood, Booth. While I find you nearly irresistible and I've been tempted to give a relationship with you a try, I'm with Jack now," she teased.

Booth frowned. "What? No, that's not what this is about—" he began to protest, then he noticed the teasing light in her eyes and smiled a little. "Very funny. This is about Bones."

She perched on the corner of her desk, intrigued. "Yeah, I figured. Go on."

Booth gave her a brief account of his training session with Brennan. "Any idea why she might have reacted that way?" he finished.

Angela had started frowning by the end of his story. She got up and paced the small office thoughtfully. Booth was growing more agitated by the minute. If Angela knew the source of Bones' behavior, he hoped she would tell him. Stopping suddenly, she folded her arms and turned to face him and his hopes were dashed.

"I can't tell you," she said softly, firmly.

Booth sighed with frustration. "Why not? If something is bothering her, I need to know so I can help her—"

"No," Angela interrupted. Booth frowned. "I know her better than anyone, Booth. She prides herself on her independence, and she won't welcome your interference. You have to let her work it out on her own."

"C'mon, Angela. You weren't there, you didn't see how upset she was—"

"It's not my story to tell, Booth," Angela cut in gently. She stepped closer to place a hand on his forearm. "Give it time. She'll work it out on her own. And if she can't, maybe she'll confide in you. But I can't break her trust. What kind of friend would I be?"

Booth studied her silently for a long moment. Then he sighed and closed his eyes briefly. He opened them to find her watching him with a speculative look.

"You're the best kind of friend," he said with a wry smile. "Okay, I'll give it time. But if it gets to the point where I think it's affecting her work or our partnership, I'm going to confront her and see if I can get her to open up to me."

Angela smiled at him fondly. "And that, G-man, is what makes _you_ the best kind of friend." Booth grinned and squeezed her hand. Angela's look became serious. "She might surprise you. She's one of the strongest people I know."

Turning to open the door, Booth glanced at her. "Yeah, she is. I just hope she's strong enough to ask for help if she needs it. Thanks, Angela."

Nearly two weeks later, Booth's frustration had reached its zenith. Brennan was pale and withdrawn and he knew by the circles under her eyes that she wasn't sleeping well. He suspected she wasn't eating well, either. Late on Friday night he showed up at her apartment, determined to talk to her.

Opening the door, she sighed. "What are you doing here, Booth?" she asked tiredly. She made no move to invite him in and he shifted from foot to foot. She wasn't going to make it easy.

"I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

Sighing again, she dropped her hand from the door and turned away, leaving it to him to come in and close the door behind him. She padded wearily to the couch and sat in the far corner, wrapping a throw around herself and looking up at him with hollow eyes. Booth's concern rose.

"Bones, what's bothering you? You haven't been yourself since that day in the training room," he asked, sitting down at the opposite end of the couch.

"Nothing's bothering me. I'm just not feeling well. If I'm not feeling better by Monday, I'll go to the doctor, I promise. I think I just need to get some rest." She picked up a mug from the end table and took a sip. Booth wasn't fooled.

"Temperance," he said in a no-nonsense tone. Her eyes met his and she knew it was time to tell him. Though she didn't think much of psychology, she understood the value of sharing painful memories to strengthen their friendship. And it might have a cathartic affect. All she knew was she was having a hard time putting the memories back in the box they'd been in for years.

She set her mug down carefully, gathering her thoughts. Booth waited patiently, sensing that she was about to tell him a very painful story.

"In 1997 I was working a mass grave in Belize near the border of Guatemala. That border had been under dispute for decades and the grave held at least seventy bodies of people suspected to be victims of a massacre led by Guatemalan guerillas the year before. They were believed to be settlers who were foolish enough to move into the disputed area. We'd only been there a few days, had really barely begun our work when our camp was overrun by heavily armed Guatemalans late one night. There were only twelve of us, almost all scientists guarded by a couple Belizan soldiers, and I was the only woman."

She paused, her eyes focused on a loose thread in the throw. Her fingers picked at it absently. Booth began to wonder if she would continue when she suddenly looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I was asleep in my tent when they came. I—I woke up when one of the attackers straddled my middle and put a knife to my throat." A sob caught in her voice and she swallowed, blinking furiously. "I froze, I didn't know what to do. Everything I'd learned about self defense techniques completely deserted me. I was sure he would kill me, but he wanted something else first. With the knife at my throat the whole time, he—he raped me," she finished, dropping her eyes. "Just as he finished and it looked like he might actually slit my throat, his men called to him, telling him it was time to go. With an evil smile, he rolled off me and left."

Booth stared at her in shock, then his rage rose and his jaw clenched. He had the overwhelming urge to hit something.

"I had always prided myself on my ability to defend myself. That incident showed me what helplessness was." Her haunted eyes met his and his heart clenched. When she went on her voice was a little stronger. "That is why I've trained in martial arts. And why I slept with a gun under my pillow for a long time after that, even after I got home."

"Did—did they kill everyone else?" Booth asked hoarsely.

Brennan closed her eyes and a pair of tears slid down her face. "Seven of them. They left before they could finish because a Belizan patrol was spotted by one of their lookouts. Otherwise I think they would have slaughtered us all." When she opened her eyes again, she found Booth right beside her. She curled up tighter, resisting the urge to throw herself into his arms.

Booth reached out to stroke her hair, his heart breaking as she flinched involuntarily. "Why didn't you tell me, that day in the training room?"

A sad smile twisted her lips. "I had buried that memory so deep, it didn't even come to mind when you suggested that last scenario. When you straddled me, my instincts took over, and I did what I should have done all those years ago. If I had, I wouldn't have been raped."

"Maybe," Booth said softly. "And maybe you would have just made him mad enough to kill you outright." Her eyes were a brilliant blue, magnified by unshed tears. Moving slowly, giving her every chance to protest, he finally pulled her into his comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. Sorry that my actions brought the memories back." He stroked her back, leaning his cheek on her hair as sobs shook her body. Gradually, she relaxed, uncurling from her fetal position to slip her arms around him, clutching at his shirt as she sought solace.

Her sobs had stopped as had the hiccups they had brought on. Her arms loosened and he pulled back a little to look down at her. Her brow was clear of frown lines and her eyes, though rimmed with red, looked calmer than they had in awhile. She touched his shirt where her face had been pressed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to cry all over you." Wiping her eyes, looking embarrassed, she straightened away from him more. "Why do you always let me do that?"

He smiled. "Makes me feel like the strong alpha male protector you're always calling me," he quipped.

She playfully slapped his arm. "Stop it, I'm serious."

"Bones, you have a tendency to bottle things up. Sometimes you need to let go, for your own mental health. I'm your friend and I'm here, anytime you need to let go."

Pulling a tissue out of the box on the end table, she wiped her nose. She took a shaky breath. "I hate psychology, you know that. But I have to admit, I'm feeling better. Thank you." This last was said solemnly as her eyes held his.

"No problem." He straightened. "Now, how long since you ate? "Cuz I'm thinking some Wong Foo's would be great."

She smiled and stood, looking for the portable phone. "I could eat. Make sure you order a double serving of the moo-shoo pork so I can have some this time."

He grinned. Now _that_ sounded like his Bones.

THE END

**I hope I didn't get overly dramatic there, or OOC (out of character) but that was a very traumatic experience and I think it would knock even the strongest woman for a loop. Now, click that cute little blue button and tell me what you think. Thank you so much for reading.**


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